


Not Throwing Away My Shot

by apple_pi



Category: The Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: Blow Jobs, Cheerful non-monogamy, M/M, Monaboyd, Multi, Recreational Drug Use, Threesome - M/M/M, silliness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-06
Updated: 2016-12-06
Packaged: 2018-09-06 20:44:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8768623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apple_pi/pseuds/apple_pi
Summary: “All right, kiddies, listen up, Uncle Dom’s got a new game to play.”Eight faces turned to look at Dom with varying degrees of interest, skepticism, or apprehension; he was standing in the doorway between kitchen and lounge, holding a tray laden with small glasses. Each glass held a shot; all the shots were a deep amber color.





	

**Author's Note:**

> The marvelous @pippinmctaggart, looking through the @auideas Tumblr, sent me this one:
> 
>  
> 
> _A group of friends are all doing roulette shots of emotions one night and no one wants to get the “sexy” drug…but then the most innocent one of all downs it._
> 
>  
> 
> And said, “get busy, chop chop!” and gave me the fully fleshed out (ahem) plot for this story, so thank you to @auideas for the prompt, and to @pippinmctaggart for the out of control bunny AND an amazing beta-slash-consultation-throughout-writing.

“All right, kiddies, listen up, Uncle Dom’s got a new game to play.”

Eight faces turned to look at Dom with varying degrees of interest, skepticism, or apprehension; he was standing in the doorway between kitchen and lounge, holding a tray laden with small glasses. Each glass held a shot; all the shots were a deep amber color. Having secured their attention, Dom turned and set the tray on the table, beside the turntable that held Billy’s salt, pepper, vinegar, and a cup full of ketchup packets stolen from the diner down the road.

As Dom removed these items and began setting the shot glasses carefully around the edge of the turntable, a few folks wandered over. Billy was first, but only because he’d casually pushed Elijah, already jumping up from the sofa, backwards into the cushions. Elijah scrambled to the table on Billy’s heels and shoved him sideways; they jostled and slapped at each other for a minute, until Billy got Elijah into a headlock. He held him there—Elijah shrieking and flailing to no avail—as Orlando and Liv bounced up, followed more slowly by Sean (Astin); Bean didn’t move from his sprawl in the room’s only armchair, where he watched them all with a faint smile. Miranda, sitting at Viggo’s feet as he braided her hair, looked interested, but neither of them got up.

Once the nine shot glasses were placed around the circumference of the turntable, Dom gestured impatiently at the laggards. “C’mon, you lot, I paid a decent amount of money for this game, you all have to play.”

Billy released Elijah—Elijah shoved him again, but leapt behind Astin when Billy made to grab him. Bean heaved himself up and wandered over; Viggo patted Miranda’s shoulder and they both rose, Miranda running her fingers through her hair to loosen the braid.

“All right, have any of you heard of Tone?”

Elijah cocked his head. “Is it that new rave drug?”

Dom nodded. “Yes.”

Astin was already shaking his head and backing away. “No way, man,” he said, “You guys are nuts.”

“It’s perfectly safe,” Dom said. “It’s lab-made, based on human hormones that produce emotions. I got enough for eight shots—eight different emotions—and then there’s one that’s a placebo. Whoever gets that one is the ground control.” He looked at Astin. “You could be the ground control, if you don’t want to leave it up to chance.”

Sean rolled his eyes. “Yeah, that sounds like a great time,” he said, and shook his head again. “I gotta head home anyway.” He looked at Elijah. “Call if you need a ride.”

Elijah grabbed him and pulled him away from the group, already talking into his ear—no doubt trying to convince him to stay. Billy, Viggo, and Bean looked thoughtfully at the table and the shots; Miranda looked fascinated, Liv nervous. Orlando was already bouncing on the balls of his feet, ready to start.

“It wears off in six to eight hours,” Dom said, directing his voice at where Sean and Elijah huddled near the front door.

Sean shook his head, made a face at Elijah and hugged him, whispering something into his ear. Elijah hugged Sean back and then opened the door for him. “Not his thing,” Lij said, coming back to the table. “But he’s going to leave his phone on in case anyone needs a ride later.”

Dom shrugged, too, taking one shot glass off the Lazy Susan. “It’s a shame—I woulda loved to see our Sam get super giggly.” He grinned.

“So how does it all work?” Liv asked. She leaned against Miranda, standing on one foot with the other pulled up like a flamingo, and Miranda tipped her head sideways to rest against Liv’s, bright and dark hair against each other.

Dom dug a segmented envelope out of his pocket and shook seven tiny whitish pills into his palm, leaving one in its pocket; he folded the envelope up tight and set it aside on the table. Next, he fished a different envelope from another pocket, and lifted its sole tiny pill up to them all, tossing the second envelope aside, now empty. “The ground control,” he said, displaying the single pill; then he dropped it into his other palm, where it immediately became indistinguishable from the other seven pills.

“What do they do?” Viggo picked up the empty envelope and sniffed it.

“I’m glad you asked,” Dom said, like the narrator of an infomercial. “Tone is a lab drug which can produce a variety of strong emotions in those who… indulge.” He began dropping the pills into the shot glasses, one into each; the other seven watched, fascinated, as the tiny pills sank to the bottom of the glasses, fizzed, and disappeared. “The seven active pills will produce seven different emotions.” He dropped the last one in: plop! and picked up the envelope he’d set aside. He turned it over and read the handwritten list on its back: “I left Melancholy in the envelope, so we have Giggles, Sexy, Fright, Disgust, Surprise, Cheer, Horny, and of course, our ground control, which is just a bit of chalk and fizz.”

“I don’t want to be frightened for six hours,” Miranda said.

Elijah nodded. “Or disgusted.”

“Well, I don’t either,” Dom admitted. “I asked about that, and Mel—the grip? She’s who I got this all from—” they nodded, looking unsurprised— “she said it’s more fun if you have a couple of ick ones in there, but they make the negative ones the weakest. She said Fright is just like if you smoked a strain of weed that made you paranoid for a while, and basically you’d just feel anxious, then fall asleep.” He grinned. “They make the good ones way more intense.”

The seven of them looked interested, but it was Orlando who reached out and gave the Lazy Susan a slow push, so it began to rotate. “Let’s do it,” he said.

“That’s the spirit,” Dom said.

They gave the turntable several gentle spins, and then Viggo reached out and stopped it.

All eight actors reached out, picking up a shot of liqueur.

“Here’s lookin’ at you,” Miranda said, and they tossed the shots back.

 

 

**COUNTDOWN**

 

**_Three_ **

 

“Which one do you want to get?” Dom asked Billy.

He shrugged. “I don’t really want Disgust—you’re all disgusting enough, thanks—” Dom hit his shoulder— “but Cheer would be fine. Or Surprise. What’s that like?” He made an astonished face at Dom, who laughed. “What about you?”

“Mmm, Sexy would be fun,” Dom said. “Or Cheer.”

“I want Giggles,” Liv said.

“Then how would we know you weren’t the ground control?” Elijah said. She threw a cushion at him.

“As long as Orli or Lij don’t get Giggles,” Dom muttered to Billy.

Billy rolled his eyes in agreement. “I’ll help you hide the body if we have to listen to that for six hours.”

“I hope Bean gets Giggles,” Miranda said, and smirked at him.

“I hope Viggo gets Sexy,” Billy heard Liv whisper to Miranda, and both of them looked intrigued. Viggo’s lips quirked up on one side.

“I hope Lij gets Horny,” Orlando said.

“Yeah, but then how would we know he wasn’t the ground control?” Bean asked with a wicked smile.

“Ha, ha,” Elijah said. “Just for that, I hope you get Fright.”

“Nah, that’s going to be Viggo,” Bean said.

 

_**Two** _

 

“I feel warm. Does anyone else feel warm?” Dom asked, looking around. He fanned himself.

“I feel warm,” Elijah said. He blinked at Dom.

“Are you getting sick?” Orlando asked, scooting away from Dom.

Billy gave a snort of laughter. “No sicker than he’s ever been.”

Liv made a face. “This Tone stuff better not make anybody puke.”

Dom grabbed a magazine and fanned himself harder. “It won’t, it just makes the emotions and reactions you already have stronger, it doesn’t put anything into your body that your body doesn’t already make.”

Miranda looked relieved. “That’s good to hear,” she said. “I think it’ll be quite fun.”

“Do you?” Bean asked, raising one eyebrow.

“Seriously, no one else is burning up?” Dom complained, tugging at his collar with his free hand.

Elijah tipped his head to the side. “Nope,” he said. “Just you.”

 

_**One** _

 

Viggo went to the kitchen for water; when he turned around from the sink, Elijah was right behind him.

Viggo didn’t flinch, but he did raise his eyebrows. “Do you want some water?” he asked.

Elijah shook his head. “Nope.”

“Need something else?” Viggo asked.

Elijah reached out, tugged at the fraying hem of Viggo’s worn t-shirt. “Maybe,” he said.

 

“Fuck me, it’s hot in here,” Dom swore, back in the lounge, struggling out of his t-shirt. He pulled it off and tossed it over Billy’s face.

Billy didn’t move, but Dom could hear him start laughing, see the shirt fluttering where his breath was hitting the fabric.

“Shite, he’s got a fever,” Orlando moaned, curling away from him on the couch. “He’s going to get us all sick.”

“You’re such a wimp,” Liv sniffed.

“I’d never have thought it,” Bean said, sounding honestly surprised.

“I’m sure it’ll all be fine,” Miranda chirped. “Everything’s going to be lovely.”

 

 

**LIFT OFF**

 

It wasn’t so much that he couldn’t stop laughing, Billy thought—laughing to himself under Dom’s shirt—it was just that everything was so genuinely _ridiculous_.

He pulled the t-shirt off himself and laughed again at Dom’s face, which had gone flushed and focused; Dom was staring at him with a certain expression of stoned intent that was hilarious, and on his other side, Orlando was curling his whole body around the arm of the settee, as far from Dom as he could get, a screwed-up look of fear on his features.

“I think I got Giggles,” Billy said, and went off into another peal at Liv’s moue of distaste. “You look like you got Disgust, Liv. Anybody else know what they got?”

Dom licked his lips. “I think I got Horny,” he said. He looked down at his lap—Billy snickered—then back at Billy. “Yep, definitely horny.” He went back to staring at Billy.

Viggo came out of the kitchen, glass of water in one hand, Elijah’s shoulder in the other. “Well, stay away from Frodo here,” he said dryly, “I think he got Sexy.” Elijah smirked and somehow draped all five foot five inches of himself against Viggo’s side.

“Oh, fuck!” Bean exclaimed, “I think I got Surprise.”

Billy laughed so hard he fell off the sofa.

 

 

“You know what I hate?” Liv asked, perched on a barstool from the kitchen, back straight and expression perfectly serious.

“Oh, surely not _hate_ ,” Miranda protested.

“Hate,” Liv said with certainty.

“What?” Miranda said.

“Men,” Liv said.

 

 

Dom leaned over and stuck his face into Billy’s neck. “You smell good.”

Billy twitched and slapped at him. “Stop it,” he snickered.

“Mmmm, just wanna…” Dom licked Billy, who squeaked. “Be still.” He crawled onto Billy and straddled him, burying his face in Billy’s neck and rocking against his hips.

Billy tried to be still but it _tickled_. He giggled and squirmed and finally shoved Dom away. “Get off!” he squawked.

Dom lifted his head; his face was pink and disgruntled. “Fine, Orli loves me,” he sniffed, turning away. He forced himself between Billy and Orlando. “Hi, elf,” he said. “Wanna make out?”

“I do,” Elijah said from the loveseat, where Viggo was keeping him corralled.

“No!” Orlando whined, and slid right off the sofa to get away from Dom.

“No,” said Viggo firmly.

Elijah pouted at him, then stuck his foot out and ran his toe over Bean’s denimed thigh, the only part he could reach. “How about you?” he asked, and raised one eyebrow at him. “I think Boromir owes me.”

“What the hell,” Bean said, startled.

 

 

“Men aren’t so bad,” Miranda was saying. She beamed at Dom, who’d given up on Billy and Orlando and looked to be contemplating the arm of the sofa as a potential love interest. “See, Dom’s calmed down.”

“Not really,” Dom said. “You could help me out if you wanted, though.” He gave her a winning smile.

“Oh,” Miranda said, furrowing her brow for a moment, “I don’t think so. I’m so comfy, you see,” she offered, smiling again.

“ _I’m_ not,” Dom said.

“And yet no one cares,” Liv said.

“I care,” Elijah said. He kept sliding one small and grubby hand onto Viggo’s thigh.

“No, you don’t,” Viggo said, removing the hand—again—and beginning to look somewhat harried.

“Yes, he does,” Dom said, and stuck his tongue out at Elijah in grinning invitation.

 

 

An indeterminate amount of time passed; a certain number of interesting events took place. Billy was never sure, later, of their exact order, or even whether he remembered them quite right.

He definitely remembered Liv’s merciless shut-down when Elijah made a pass at her, and Bean’s shock when Elijah, without missing a beat, made a second pass at him. He remembered Viggo pulling Elijah out of Bean’s lap and depositing him in a chair at the dining room table, and he remembered giggling to himself as he watched Elijah pick up an empty shot glass and run the tip of his very pink tongue around the rim, staring all the while at Dom.

He remembered Dom’s laser-like focus, and he would never, ever forget the sight of Dom standing up and dropping trou before making a beeline toward the dining room. To be honest, though, he’d bet none of them would ever forget it, except possibly Orlando, by that point curled under the coffee table and whimpering quietly with his eyes closed.

Viggo grabbed Dom, effortlessly tossed him back onto the sofa next to Billy, scooped up the trousers and threw them across Dom’s lap. “Miranda, can you help Orlando to the door?” Viggo said.

“I’d love to!” she said, and knelt beside him. She leaned down and began whispering cheerily into his ear.

“What’s going on?” Bean wondered aloud, eyes round.

“Bill,” Viggo said.

Billy struggled to stop giggling; his stomach hurt, but my _God_ , it was all just so _funny_. “Mmm?” he said, wiping his eyes. “Yes, Viggo?” He sucked in his cheeks, trying not to fall into laughter again.

“I need to take Orlando home,” Viggo said. “I’m going to get Liv to drive Sean home, and I’ll take Miranda to help me get Orli calmed down and into bed.”

“Sure you don’t want Dom for that?” Billy said, grinning.

Viggo smirked just a little. “No, I think I’ll leave Dom to you,” he said. “But my car is full of stuff, I can’t fit Elijah in, too. I’m pretty sure Liv would murder him and Sean would have a heart attack if he rode with them, so I’ll have to come back for him.”

“Eh, he’ll be fine here,” Billy said, waving one hand about. “I outweigh him if it comes down to it.”

Viggo looked concerned. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” He glanced at Dom—still fixated on Elijah—and raised an eyebrow at Billy. “Are you sure you can handle both of them?”

Billy looked at the other two hobbits. Elijah had stopped fellating the shot glass and was lolling back in his chair, running one hand across his skinny chest, eyes flicking from Dom—flushed and conflicted on the sofa—to Liv, already standing at the door and tapping her foot impatiently.

“I can handle Dom,” Billy said. “Naked idiot Dom is nothing new to me.” A few giggles escaped. “And considering that Elijah’s about as subtle as a fucking—” he began tittering helplessly, watching Elijah try on a sexy pout— “fucking train wreck—” he dissolved into laughter, waving one hand at Viggo. “We’ll be fine, fine,” he managed. “Go on, get these other wankers out of my house, would you?”

Viggo smiled in relief, his eyes crinkling up, and squeezed Billy’s arm. “At least with just the three of you here we probably won’t have any unexpected pregnancies.”

Billy threw back his head and whooped.

 

 

The house was suddenly much quieter. Billy wiped his eyes and attempted to take a few deep breaths. His cheeks hurt from all the smiling, but he couldn’t help it. “Ah, Christ,” he sighed, “does anyone else need another drink?” He pushed himself up off the sofa and patted Dom’s bare shoulder. “Want a drink, Dom?”

“No, I want you to get naked and stay still for five minutes,” Dom said. “And the naked part is optional.”

“Just go to the toilet and have one off there,” Billy said—reasonably, he thought, considering that he was fairly desperate to get away and stop cackling for a minute or two. He wondered if an orgasm would make him stop laughing, but the picture that conjured up just made him giggle harder.

“I’ll come help,” Elijah offered. He smirked at Dom, who grinned back and jerked his head toward the back of the house.

“Not even a little,” Billy said, attempting to sound stern and failing miserably. “Dom, stop trying to take advantage of Elijah.”

Elijah lay back in the chair and spread his knees. “But I want him to,” he purred. “Dom, come take advantage of Elijah.”

Billy stood motionless in the doorway of the kitchen, watching.

Dom’s gaze flicked from Elijah to Billy to Elijah again. “Bill,” he wheedled.

Billy snorted a laugh. “No way.”

“But look at him.” Dom said. He shifted—pressed one hand into his lap and Billy couldn’t help but see how hard he was, the flush on his neck and cheeks and chest.

Billy tore his gaze away, looked at Elijah. Elijah met his eyes; ran one hand down his belly and thumbed open the top two buttons of his jeans.

“Jailbait,” Billy said, another little laugh escaping him.

“Available to the highest bidder,” Elijah offered.

Dom groaned.

Billy pointed at Dom. “No. Stay.” He giggled a little; he couldn’t help it, he’d thought of Dom in a collar and leash, and it was laugh or go over there and push him down on the sofa and fuck him, Elijah’s big fucking blue eyes be damned. “You, too,” he added, swiveling so his finger was aimed at Elijah. “ _Do_ you want a drink, Dommie?” Billy asked again.

“I want a drink,” Elijah said, fluttering his lashes at Billy.

“You can have a cold shower,” Billy said, snickering. He turned away and into the kitchen. “Nineteen years old,” he reminded himself, taking a deep breath.

The bastards had drunk all his beer. He laughed to himself, especially when he thought of the bollocking he’d give them tomorrow, and got himself a glass of water from the tap. He drank it standing at the sink, and glanced at the clock on the microwave. It’d been a little more than three hours since they’d taken the shots; his stomach hurt from laughing but he still felt good. He was having second thoughts about turning down Viggo’s plan to return for Elijah; he wouldn’t at all mind being alone with Dom, letting him go ahead and get off, taking Billy with him for good measure. He wondered if he could call Astin and get him to come pick Elijah up, and then he pictured Sean trying to deal with Elijah’s rentboy routine and had to lean on the worktop, he laughed so hard.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” he finally wheezed, straightening. “Get it together, Boyd,” he mumbled, and realized it was too quiet in the next room.

When he got back to the lounge, Elijah was sitting on Dom’s very naked lap, and Dom was industriously snogging him, and also trying to unbutton Elijah’s jeans the rest of the way. Billy froze for a moment, reaching down to adjust himself because no matter how ridiculous it was—oh, and it was, he felt the urge to laugh tightening his stomach muscles again—it was also _hot_ , and the part of him that wasn’t laughing or being embarrassed for them kind of wanted to just… stand there. And watch.

He shook his head at himself and trotted across the room to them, grinning. “Oi, you great walloping wingnut, he’s barely even legal.” He tried to pry them apart, hindered by his own laughter and their strenuous resistance.

“Fuck off,” Dom said, batting his hands away; Elijah took a different tack, grabbing a fistful of Billy’s shirt and dragging him down.

“No, let him stay,” Elijah murmured, and Dom perked up.

“Good idea,” he said, “c’mere, Bills.”

Billy burst into giggles again. “You two are idjits,” he insisted through his laughter, but Elijah pulled him off balance and Dom grabbed his shoulders, and he found himself awkwardly sprawled, belly-up across both men, Dom’s tongue in his mouth and someone’s hands—Elijah’s? _Surely not_ , Billy thought—tugging at the button on his jeans. He gasped and wriggled as Dom’s mouth moved to his neck and the hands at his waist unzipped him. “Tickles!” he shrieked, but Dom was sucking on his throat and—Billy opened his eyes and lifted his head for a moment and yes, it was Lij busy at his trousers—Elijah had shoved one hand into his pants and was rummaging around, gripping and stroking as Billy protested weakly, still laughing and floundering.

“You’re too young,” he tried to say through his breathless giggles, “you’re too _stoned_ ,” but everything went topsy turvy just then, and when the world was more-or-less stable again he was on his back on the sofa, and suddenly not wearing his jeans _or_ his pants, and his shirt was rucked up under his arms. “ _I’m_ too stoned,” he managed, before dissolving into laughter and breathless gasping. Elijah was crouched somewhere far away, between his thighs, and Dom knelt on the floor and leaned down to kiss him for several long and interesting moments, before licking and biting his way to Billy’s neck, then chest.

There were at least two hands on Billy’s cock, another hand—Dom?—pinching his nipple roughly, another—Elijah?—tugging at his balls as he exhaled another laugh and gave in. Billy’s head fell back, legs splayed wide as he let himself be taken, squirmed and moaned and flailed till he found Dom’s shoulder and gripped it, pushing his hips up into those tight-moving hands again and again until everything fell apart into pleasure, his orgasm tearing through him as he gasped and laughed and came and came and came.

“Oh fuck oh fuck,” he said, eyes squeezed shut, still chuckling weakly, “Viggo’s gonnae kill me.”

“In that case,” Elijah said, and he crawled up over Billy and kissed him, “you might as well go all in.”

Dom groaned, kneeling beside them both, and said, “Yes, _finally_ , Jesus,” as he reached down and gripped his cock. “I’ve been dying over here forever, and this wanker gets to come first,” he complained.

“That’s tragic,” Elijah said gleefully, “what should we do to help?”

Somehow this led to Dom standing beside the sofa, Elijah—still propped up on his hands and knees over Billy—sucking and licking at Dom’s cock about two feet above Billy’s face.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Dom was saying, and Elijah was clearly inexperienced—he kept choking, pulling back, diving back in—but what he lacked in experience he more than made up with enthusiasm, and between his eager tongue and Dom’s hand, squeezing and working his cock along with Elijah’s mouth, Dom’s groaned profanities swiftly deteriorated into jagged, hitching breaths and then—Billy watched it all, eyes half-lidded, laughter still simmering in his belly—Dom’s thighs went tight and he came, one hand wrapped around his cock, one holding Elijah’s head in place so his come spurted into Elijah’s wet and welcoming mouth. Some escaped and landed on Billy’s neck. He couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up—good lord, but human bodies were ridiculous—but he didn’t want to hurt Dom’s feelings, so he bit his lip, hard, and distracted himself by scooping a dribble up with one finger, then licking his fingertip clean. Looking at Elijah’s hungry face, Dom’s blissed out expression of gratitude, he felt the giggle slide into happy affection.

“My turn,” Elijah said, sitting back on his heels and wiping his chin carelessly. “I wanna come, too.” He reached down and tugged at his cock. “What should I do?”

Billy giggled again. “Are you taking suggestions?” he asked.

“Jerk off and come on Billy’s chest,” Dom said, breathless and looking pleased with himself. “It’s awesome. I love doing it.”

“Piss off, Dom,” Billy laughed, but Elijah was already slapping his fist up and down his prick in a fast, hard motion.

“God, yes,” Elijah said, eyes falling closed, “fuck, you got me so close, watching you both—” his voice cracked and he reached blindly out with his free hand. Billy grabbed it and held it tight, watching in fascination as a flush burned along Elijah’s cheekbones, his throat, down his chest. His face screwed up as he bit his lip and then cried out wordlessly and came, spurting over Billy’s belly and chest, thin splatters of come catching in the gingery chest hair.

“See?” Dom said. “Awesome.”

Billy couldn’t stop himself this time; he started giggling again.

Elijah sank back onto his heels again and opened his eyes, breath heaving and looking somehow smug and also offended. “Are you laughing at me?”

“No, no,” Billy panted through his laughter, “s’just—y’know—pricks—” he was laughing harder at their expressions— “so—” his voice completely disappeared; he was just squeaking helplessly.

“Arsehole,” Dom said, “see if I jerk you off again anytime soon.”

“Me either,” Elijah said, climbing off the sofa.

Billy choked back his laughter, protesting, “No, noooo, it’s just the drug, I swear.” He sat up and pulled his shirt off, using it to swipe at his chest. He was still fighting back laughter, weak snorts he tried desperately to quash.

Dom sniffed. He looked at Elijah. “Still feeling sexy?” he asked.

Elijah cocked one hip. Skinny, pale, buck-naked and still somehow radiating sexual magnetism, he raised an eyebrow at Dom. “What d’you think?”

“I’m still horny,” Dom said, looking down at his cock, already half-hard again. “Soooo….”

They swiveled in unison and looked at Billy, blinking up at them with his wadded up t-shirt clutched in his hands.

“Think he’ll keep laughing if we let him come to the bedroom with us?” Elijah asked.

Dom rolled his eyes and took the shirt away, tossing it over his shoulder. “Yeah, I think so,” he said. He grabbed Billy’s hands and pulled him to his feet.

“Oh, I will,” Billy said, already cackling—at Dom’s fond expression, at Elijah’s ridiculous swagger as he led the way down the hall.

“I have a plan, though,” Dom said to Elijah.

“Mmm, I love a man with a plan,” Elijah said.

“Idjits,” Billy chuckled.

“It involves his mouth and my favorite body parts,” Dom confided, reaching out to pinch Elijah’s bare bottom.

Billy snickered. “It’s going to take more than that to stop me laughing, Dommie.”

“I’m feeling creative,” Dom said. “We’ll figure it out.”

“I’ve no doubt we will,” Billy sighed, grinning like an idiot as they pulled him into the bedroom.


End file.
